


"I'll be watching over you, Sammy"

by heycassbutt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And I'm still bad at tagging, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Broken Bones, But I'll give you, Character Death, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, F/M, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Mark of Cain, Not My Fault, Reader-Insert, Sam's luck with girls is awful isn't it, Tissue Warning, Violence, Violent Dean, just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heycassbutt/pseuds/heycassbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Mark of Cain!Dean beating up Sam's girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'll be watching over you, Sammy"

Aften the hunt was over, Dean had gone missing. (Name) and her boyfriend, Sam, had returned to the motel where they had agreed to meet with Dean earlier, but Dean wasn’t there, and after a while of waiting they had decided to go and look for him. Sam was worried for his brother, and so was (name), but for entirely different reasons. She had a hunch where Dean was, but she hoped with her fingers crossed her hunch was wrong. She and Sam split up to scour the town and find Dean faster, and she ran back to the family house where she’d been solving the case with the brothers. (Name) met the hysterical parents outside their home, and it boded poorly; she told them to wait outside, and she ran in and up the stairs after hearing the kid’s screams. She found Dean and the boy from his parents’ bedroom, and by the looks of it, Dean had already had a swing at the kid who had a bleeding lip as he covered at the back of the room. (Name) bolted in and stepped between them, standing in front of the boy and shielding him, facing her best friend eye to eye. She had her own hunting knife in hand, the one given to her by Sam when they had first started hunting together, and she clutched it tightly. 

”Dean, stop”, she said emphatically as she looked at him, tried to stare him down. Dean’s eyes were emotionless and distant... almost brutal. As if he didn’t care at all. ”I won’t let you touch this kid, he’s innocent.”

Dean’s answer was a cold chuckle. ”Innocent, huh? You saw the other brother - they’re all the same. They always are.”

”That’s not you talking, it’s the Mark. Snap out of it!”

”I’m just finishing the job, tying up the ends you and Sammy left loose.”

”We made sure he’s not a monster, Dean, he’s got nothing to do with this!”

Dean didn’t seem to listen nor care. ”Step aside, (name). I don’t want to hurt you.”

”Not a chance”, (name) said, as stubborn as ever, and took a glance at the scared boy hiding behind her. ”Leave and run as fast as you can, I’ll take care of this jerk. Go!”

She didn’t need to tell him twice, and he ran to the door and out of it to the stairs while (name) made sure Dean wouldn’t go after him, raising her blade every time Dean attempted to move. Dean’s gaze followed the boy, and after he was gone, he returned it to her, completely unfazed. She clutched onto her knife even harder, her knuckles white and her hands slightly shaking. ”I don’t want to hurt you, either, Dean”, she said in a cautious way, though there was a flicker of fear in her voice, as well. She knew she couldn’t best Dean, only to delay him and give the boy time to escape, but that didn’t slow her down. She would not let Dean hurt and kill innocent people just because the Mark told him to. She would stop him, no matter what. ”Don’t make me do this.”

Dean took a step closer. ”Step aside.”

”No.”

”Get out of my way!” Dean demanded, and even though (name) were scared stiff, she didn’t move away. She only backed to the bedroom’s door and closed it, blocking Dean’s only way out, and pressed her back against the door’s white surface. She shook her head, never letting her eyes stray from Dean’s. 

_”No.”_

”(Name)...” Dean’s tone was dangerous. ”Last warning. Leave.”

”If you want to kill the boy, you’ll need to go through me first.”

It was like a challenge, and it was one Dean took gladly. He sauntered through the room like a predator towards his prey, a cruel smile decorating his lips, and she braced herself for the inevitable fight. She wouldn’t go down without one, and she wouldn’t let Dean leave without one. She could avoid the first few swing of his fists, but just as she had anticipated, Dean outpowered her quickly, his attacks fast and aggressive, powered by the burning anger and lust for blood the Mark of Cain awoke in him. Dean’s fist sent her down to the floor, and when she was on her knees and spitting out blood, Dean came to her and gripped her tight by the throat. When he tossed her through the room and she crashed over a small table, breaking it as well as a few of her bones, (name) was too weak to get back up anymore, too weak to fight back. Dean saw that, and he came after her and stood over her, kneeling down, pulling back his clenched fist and hitting her, again and again. She whimpered, splinters and shards of wood and glass digging deep into her skin, cutting and drawing out blood. She lost count of the hits and the times his fists met her body and her face, the bones she had broken, the number of times she’d cried Dean to stop. He didn’t listen, and when he did stop, he only did it so he could grab the knife from the floor, the one she’d dropped. (Name) looked at him, one of her eyes nearly swollen shut and the burning hot tears streaming down her blood-covered cheeks. ”Please, Dean”, she begged when he raised the knife above his head, a coppery taste in her mouth, ”please, don’t... please--”

Her sobbing turned into an ear-shattering scream when he hit the blade down and thrust it through the skin and flesh, temporarily nailing her to the hardwood floor beneath her. He pulled the knife out and lifted his hand for another hit--

”DEAN!”

Sam’s yell had no effect on Dean, and he had to tackle his brother to stop him from stabbing her again. They fought shortly, but after a particularly hard hit to the head from a heavy, silvery candlestick Sam had grabbed from the windowsill, Dean seemed to stop... it seemed to clear his head up. He glanced at Sam, and then gandered at (name) lying on the floor, whimpering in a pool of her own blood, and without saying anything he let go of the knife and it fell, sticking up to the floor when it sank in it, and Dean left, stumbled out of the messy room with a petrified face. Sam’s gaze followed his brother, but after a few seconds he threw the candlestick away and turned and hurried to his girlfriend, horrified by what he saw. He knelt down and his hand found hers, careful not to hurt her even more. 

”H-hey, I’ve got you, sweetie”, he said and attempted to form up a smile, but failed, managing to only create an agonized grimace to accompany his shaking voice. He felt how the tears already gathered behind his eyes, but he tried to blink them away. Her hair was matted with blood, and he tugged it softly back behind her ear, away from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek to caress it gently. ”I’m here, I’ve got you... I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

”Sam...” Her voice was fragile, and Sam could hear it crack under the fear she’d felt, and the pain she was in right now. He saw the blood pulsing out of the stab wound in her stomach and he held his hand on it, trying to control the bleeding. She blinked because the tears and the pain blurred her vision when she forced herself to his arms, closer to him. ”I was so scared...”

”You’re safe now, you don’t have to be afraid anymore”, Sam repeated it like mantra, time and time again, almost more to himself than to her. He needed to calm down, he knew that, but he couldn’t. Seeing the woman he loved the most in this world so broken, that strong, beautiful woman so defeated... He closed his eyes for a mere moment, burying his face to her tangled hair. ”I’m gonna keep you safe. I promise.”

(Name) turned her head a little, pressed her lips against Sam’s chin and the corner of his mouth. Her hand then reached for the knife Dean had dropped, and even though it hurt, she took the blade to her broken fingers and lifted it, pulled it out of the floor. She gave it to Sam, when he opened his eyes again she placed it to his hands. ”I guess you can keep this now”, she said, her voice only a quiet breath. She wanted Sam to have it again. Maybe, when he’d look at it, he would remember her as the woman he’d given it to, that girl who’d been strong and beautiful and alive, and not as this broken body he saw before him. She wanted him to remember her whole. 

”(Name), please...” Sam’s voice was brittle and shaky, his lips trembling when he tried to tell her what was needed, anything to make her stay for a little longer. ”Don’t go, not now... not yet. It’s not your time yet. We can fix this.”

”I’m not leaving you...” she whispered, and she smiled to him. Every breath was agony; too many of her bones were broken, too much of her blood was lost. She knew she wouldn’t make it out of this room alive, so the least she could do was to comfort Sam. She owed him that much, owed him for all the times he had comforted her, helped her through difficult times and held her for countless hours when her world had been shattered and she had cried against his chest. Her heart was pounding weaker, quieter, and she was afraid and scared to die, but she didn’t admit it, not out loud. Who knew courage would hurt so much? ”I’ll never leave you, not really. You’ll just... you just won’t see me there. I’ll be watching over you, Sammy.”

”No, no, we’re gonna fix you, okay? You’ll be fine. You’ll live through this, you always do. We can... (name)? (Name)...? Please, don’t... _please_...”

She no longer reacted to him calling her name. Her eyes were open but there was no spark to them, and her chest was still, her hand resting peacefully in Sam’s. Sam pulled her limp body to his lap, rocking her back and forth, pleading for her not to go, not just yet. She was gone, Sam knew, but it didn’t stop him from hoping. Maybe he was just dreaming, maybe this wasn’t true. Maybe... just maybe...

It was too late for her, and while her warmth still lingered in the room suddenly so cold, Sam was left to cry alone, his face buried to the chest of his broken lover.


End file.
